Snow Angels
by EmilyL2345
Summary: Ever since Castiel fell from grace, he's been hesitant to take on human life. Dean hopes to give him a nudge in the right direction, via a winter wonderland.


It was a frosty winter day in late January, not long after his birthday, when the righteous man sat with the fallen angel in the snow.

"I don't like this, Dean," Castiel protested, his nose and cheeks red from the cold.

"Oh come on!" Dean said, throwing his head back slightly and squinting in a teasing manner. "You're telling me you don't want to build a snowman? It's like the _funnest _crap ever."

"I'm quite certain that's not a real word."

"Shut up!"

Cas had a grumpy, pouty look on his face. He was like an adorable puppy that was being forced to take a bath; wrapped in a poufy blue jacket and a fluffy toque. "I'm very concerned, Dean," he said. "What if,"

"There are no 'ifs', Cas! It's just a pile of snow. You just don't want to be outside anymore." Dean only had an expression of slight annoyance on his face, but on the inside he was a bit distraught. It had been extremely difficult for Castiel to deal with losing his grace. For many days he couldn't accept that he was no longer an angel. Even for such a brave warrior, it was a challenging time. Eventually (and thankfully) he went _mostly_ back to normal, but still Dean kept noticing his unwillingness to do anything unfamiliar.

"Fine," Dean gave in. "We can go drink hot cocoa and eat some cookies!" he joked. "Oh! And we can see if Sam wants to play truth or dare!"

Cas rolled his eyes.

They made their way back into the Men of Letters' bunker and sat down in the living room. Though they didn't actually have any cocoa, Dean did prepare a coffee for his buddy and a coke for himself. Cas still wasn't entirely used to human life, and essentially refused to sleep more than an hour or two a night. Therefore, caffeine was a necessity for his consciousness on most occasions. As for Dean's choice of beverage, he was trying not to drink as much, for everyone's sake.

As Dean handed Castiel his cup and re-seated himself, he started making small talk. "So…how are you doing?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Cas replied.

"You know…like, are you feeling," he gestured with his hands a bit, "better?" he said timidly.

"I don't understand," Castiel said with his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Are you…good?"

"Dammit Dean!" Cas said angrily. "Stop being so tautological! What is your concern?" He disliked shouting at his friend, but he was very quick to lose his temper these days.

They were both silent for a moment, when Dean finally said, "It's just…I worry about you sometimes, Cas. How are you handling the whole, 'wingless' thing?"

"I'm fine," Cas lied, staring at the floor.

"Oh really?" Dean argued. "''Cause it seems to me like you don't want to do anything these days. Look, I can't say I know what it's like, but I do know that we can't do anything about it if you don't talk to me!"

There was a painful silence, and it was Castiel who broke it.

"I'm sorry Dean," he said, still unable to meet the hunter's gaze. "I'm sure you think I'm a fool for being so affected by this. You did spend decades in hell, after all. I'm weak. You don't deserve complaints from me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean exclaimed, shaking his head and crossing waving hands. "You are _not_ weak. You hear me? You are the exact opposite of that; but you can't bottle all of this crap up. I can help you through this, but you need to _let_ me." Dean put his hands on Cas' shoulders, and in response he lifted his head. Dean looked to the side, his mouth open slightly and his tongue peeking out. "I'm starting to sound like Sam," he said with a horrified look.

Cas stifled a laugh, but quickly snapped back to his previous mindset. "I'm afraid, Dean," he said.

"Why?" Dean was genuinely puzzled.

"I used to be so great and heroic," he said, anything but confident. "I can never be that powerful again. It's only a matter of time before I fail you and Sam once more, and if," he stopped to correct himself, "when that happens, I won't be able to fix it."

Dean sighed. Cas was hesitant to take on everyday human things because he feared failure, and apparently being a human equals more opportunities to screw things up beyond repair. It was a pretty valid reason for fear, coming from an angel. "That's the thing," he said. "No second tries." He said it the way a football coach talks to his players on a time out, telling them the right play. "We just have to take this one step at a time."

"How?" Cas asked, looking frightful like a small child.

After a moment of thought, Dean triumphantly proclaimed, "You, know what? Step one: We're going to go make a snowman."

"Dean, isn't that a bit unrelated?"

"It's _unfamiliar_. You are getting over this fear, my friend; right now."

Dean spun on his heel and walked towards the exit. Cas stared at him, motionless, for a few seconds before following in his tracks. As he reached the front door, Dean once again donned his winter coat; a slightly denser version of his usual leather jacket. He pulled on a pair of worker's gloves and stepped outside.

The chilled air hit him in a way that was both paralyzing and oddly wonderful. He waited, breathless from the frozen wind, for Castiel. Before long, he burst through the entry way, looking tense. "Let's just get this over with," he said, marching to the largest patch of snow, on the other side of the road. When he knew Cas couldn't see him, Dean smiled.

"Okay, this is _real_ simple." Dean explained. "All you have to do is start with a clump," he displayed the snowball in his palm, "and roll it up until it's big enough for two more to go on top."

Cas took a deep breath and did as Dean said. The snowball quickly grew in size, picking up most of the snow in the area.

"Okay, good," Dean said. "Just a bit bigger I think."

Cas kept pushing the ball, but he'd exerted too much force. Suddenly he was sitting in the wet snow next to it, looking defeated. "It's too heavy," he groaned.

"It's okay," Dean said. "You're not used to actually using your muscles yet, I guess. Besides, that's a good size." For the record, it was enormous.

They went on to the next layer, the snowman's torso. Cas was really starting to get the hang of it as he and Dean pushed the snow-boulder around. When it was somewhat comparable to the bottom in size, they carefully lifted it up and placed it on the base. They looked at each, out of breath from the pure weight of the thing, and they each let out little exasperated laughs which were really more like sighs.

Finally, they made the head. At that point Dean just watched as Cas created the rock, leaning against a telephone pole and glowing with pride. Without any assistance, he added the final piece to the snowman. Despite the fact that it was the smallest part, it was at least three times the size of his head. He turned towards Dean with a rare grin. Dean gave him a thumbs up as he sauntered over.

"I think it just needs some finishing touches," he said. Cas watched him attentively as he spoke. "You usually put a carrot for the nose but…" Suddenly something came over Cas. Before Dean could complete his sentence, Castiel took his head in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Dean neither rejected nor returned the kiss. When Cas pulled away, Dean stood there in awe. The former angel looked expectantly at him before he began feeling insecure.

"I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed.

"Um," Dean was tongue tied; something that hardly ever happened to him. "Um, no. It's okay, I mean uh," he searched for the right words. "Don't be sorry. That was…alright." He was shocked. Sure, he'd imagined this event before, but there was no way in hell he ever would have acted on his feelings. It was always just some rogue fantasy that couldn't be silenced; some kind of weird brain slip up. At least that's what he thought, until that kiss.

Suddenly he wanted more.

Castiel was walking away, looking defeated. "Wait, Cas!" Dean shouted.

He stopped walking, but didn't turn around. He was counting his sins; waiting for the repercussions of his heat of the moment actions. Dean ran up to him. "Cas," he said, out of breath. _Here it comes,_ Castiel thought with fear. _I've ruined our friendship, it's all over._ Much to his surprise, Dean grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and kissed him. It was beyond perfect as their soft lips touched. They wrapped their arms around each other, snow falling on their faces as they both silently told their best friend, _"I've loved you all along."_ When they finally tore apart, they stared into each other's eyes, almost as if they had no idea what just happened (and that was perfectly alright).

"Hot cocoa?" Cas said quietly, looking up at those gorgeous green eyes.

"Hell no, I think that's enough gay for today, thank you very much," Dean said with giddy laughter.

As they walked back home, smug grins encompassing their faces, Cas said, "I was meaning to ask: Did I complete the first step of your program to satisfaction?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Dean replied. "But you don't really need to prove anything to me; you'll always be my angel."

"Likewise," Cas agreed.

Suddenly, very serious, Dean shouted, "Don't tell Sam!" Cas promised not to speak a word of it to any living (or dead) soul.

Unfortunately for him, Sam had been watching the two of them from across the street the whole time. "That's my boy," Sam said to himself, smiling. "It's about time too."


End file.
